A Room And A Bed
by logica
Summary: They decide to steal a few minutes to relax
1. Default Chapter

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.

* * *

Standing before the poorly-painted red door, Grissom took a quick scan of the doorframe then a very brief glimpse followed at the window isolating the only other choice of view into the room with the bright yellow curtains and gray slides, making Grissom think that the grayness had probably been caused by dust and the poor usage of the room, rather than something else.

He turned his head to see the rest of the crew being busy with the other areas of the motel, some rushing, others taking their slow time, depending on the area. The reason for the Las Vegas Crime lab being here had been the kidnapping and murder of two young women in the Pink Stick motel. Grissom wasn't even going to start and try to guess the origin of such a name for such a place.

Placing his hand on the gold-painted handle, Grissom turned it, and the door soon detached itself. Pushing the door, the strong light from the outside splashed inside; uncovering anything and everything it could, leaving Grissom to soon be met with four ridiculously pink walls. Stepping inside, he noticed a framed picture of trees above the bed, a nightstand on the left, and before him at the other side was another door leading to the bathroom; one chair, a lamp, an old phone, and a mirror above the bed. The owner hadn't bothered much with adequately equipping the rooms, it seemed.

His eyebrow rose up. Lovely…

He turned to his left and looked at the bed. It's white surface, the small buttons lined up on it. This looked very familiar to him. He pointed his small flashlight to the left side of the bed and noticed a familiar little device. His left lip stretched slightly before curling up and digging into his chin, stretching it further away.

Turning on both lights, Grissom glanced at the bed, and then at the switch. He shrugged. It wouldn't be a bad idea. He then glanced over at the open door. Not suitable. He went over to the door and closed it. That seemed better.

He returned to the bed, and sat down. Grissom looked up, meeting his reflection and those blue eyes staring back at him with some sort of mischief in them. He smirked. Grissom couldn't quite understand the enjoyment of observing oneself while in the process of mating. He took his stare away and shook his head.

Pulling out a coin from his pocket, his hand then reached for the Magic Fingers when the door suddenly opened, nearly startling this older man.

"Hey. Wanting to observe a room in its state prior to us again?" Sara asked when noticing her supervisor sitting on the bed.

"Not quite," Grissom replied and smiled back at her. "Come here," he said. "And close the door behind you."

Pushing the last ray of natural light, she unhurriedly closed the door. "Um, found something?" Sara walked over to the bed, and questionably started observing its surface.

Grissom gave her a different answer. "Could you walk over to the other side of the bed, please?"

Giving him a confused look and keeping that look on him, Sara allowed herself to circle the white mattress with a normal pace. "What's the idea here?" she asked, trying to quickly discover the reason for some possible experiment.

"Sit down," he said.

Sara glanced at the bed. "Here?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I want you to lie down on the bed with me," he told her.

"Excuse me?" Bizarreness caught this question of his.

"I want you to try something."

He could not have been serious about this… Sara brought her head back, trying to capture at least one hint from his face. "What's this about?" she asked.

His eyes moved around while his lips pressed together tightly, as Grissom thought of a better answer for one second. "A form of brief relaxation and thought clearing."

"Thought clearing…" she repeated his last two words without any sign of amazement. Bizarre did not seem sufficient for this.

"Uh-uh." He nodded.

Sara looked up at the mirror. "Charming place," she said.

"Well?" He waited for her reply.

Sara's eyes fell on his. "Would this include me keeping my clothes on?" Her eyebrow followed Grissom's and rose up.

"You'll keep your clothes on, I promise."

"Ok, Griss. You're the boss," she sighed and sat down. "Now what?" she looked at him.

"Lie down," he told her.

If Sara hadn't known better, she could have sworn there was a hint of enjoyment in his voice. "You do realize we're _working_ on a case right now."

"Yeah." He lifted his legs up, putting them on the white surface. He then looked over at Sara, waiting…

She returned his gaze for a brief moment, and remembering his request, Sara followed his lead and put her legs up as well. Taking another look and feel of the mattress, she narrowed her eyes. "Is this… one of those '70s vibrating beds?"

"Yes, it is."

Her face turned to his. "Are you serious?" she asked, referring once more for his request.

Grissom shrugged. "It'll only take fifteen minutes, Sara. Relax," he told her. "Now, lie down."

Sara shook her head and did as she was told. "Close your eyes," she then heard him say. Her eyelids obeyed.

"You know that this is only going to fuel the gossip factory at work, don't you? The nightshift supervisor and one of his subordinates getting comfy in a motel room during work."

Grissom smirked. "If it were only that easy," he said.

Sara's left eye shot opened. Too many meanings from that sentence.

"I was joking, Sara. Close your eyes," Grissom responded with a tamed smile.

Her left eye didn't close.

"Please?"

That managed to close it.

Grissom reached for the Magic Fingers and placed a coin inside. A moment later, gentle vibrations began disturbing the previously calm surface of the bed; each vibration working on the parts of their bodies that were within contact with an almost soothing effect.

"And the purpose of this is what again?" Sara wanted to wait for Grissom's answer but the odd sensation convinced her otherwise. "Ohh…" her moan was so soft and quiet that even Grissom barely heard her.

"Shhh…" he advised her.

After a couple of minutes, her lips stretched across her face. "This is niceeee…"

Grissom, who had kept his eyes closed, opened them to look at her. He smiled gently. He knew she would enjoy this. His eyes lingered on her face a bit too long, though as her mellow satisfaction and gradual peacefulness kept them there. An unusually appealing sight; the brown eyes covered by the soft tissue of the eyelids, her lips parting for a breath to escape through, and the tender ease painting her face with a glowing magnetism in the yellowy light.

Realizing the uncomfortable freeze of the moment with Sara, Grissom slowly returned his stare in front of him and soon shut his eyes. The silence was good…. The thoughts however, weren't.

What time had passed was unknown to them. Grissom had been right. This would have worked perfectly well, had the unsettling image of lying in the same bed with this man not been disturbing the silence in her constantly busy mind. Sara tried to relax, and was close to being successful at it, when a nasty little slimy ball of saliva was shoved down her throat.

Would this situation bare some cause of a much needed conversation? That appeared less than likely when a knock on the door was heard. "Grissom, Sara? You guys in there?" It was Nick.

"Yes, Nick! Give us fifteen minutes!" Grissom's voice echoed behind the door.

The shout sent his head back as Nick stared confusingly at the red surface. "O-k…" he tilted his head and turned around. What were they doing in there?

"Hey, Nick. Give me a hand with this, will you?" Warrick called over to him.

"Sure," Nick replied and walked away, leaving the other two CSIs by themselves with only a glance behind.

"How did you know about this?" Sara asked him.

"Previous experience."

She smiled. "Never pictured you as a magic-fingers-bed type of a guy."

"It was a one time only… at The Fez Motel."

"Were you actually…"

Grissom smirked, tinkering with the idea of giving a different, more playful answer. "No. I just needed to think."

"Oh."

Grissom stole a glimpse of the woman next to him to see whether there had been relief or disappointed in her response. From the brief image, Grissom could only conclude that it had been a strange mixture of both. "Did you think I would go with someone like that?"

"Well, no… but… um… We all have some secret desires lurking around somewhere in us."

Her response lured out that curve of his lips to make its appearance once again. "_There are no secrets better kept than the secrets that everybody guesses_." He would leave it there, letting Sara figure out the answer on her own, for the time being. That managed to seal the room in quietness again.

Then, ten minutes later, a brief chuckle interrupted that silence.

"What?" Grissom asked, without opening his eyes.

"I'll probably let you know after our time's up," Sara responded. The vibrations worked nicely on her body… and shamelessly enough, her thoughts as well.

"Fine," Grissom took her reply. What you give is what you'll receive.

Some coffee would do them good after this.


	2. chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.

Note: This story was never intended to go further than the first part, but seeing the requests, some additions were decided to be made. Happy to see that you enjoyed it.

* * *

Her tongue slipped quite easily into his mouth, allowing a distraction which lasted long enough for her to wrap her arms around his waist; a satisfied smile on her face, followed by a few giggles, and a gentle stroke on her left thigh by his hand.

Sara folded her arms and tilted her head. "Does this look like someone's been kidnapped against her will to you?" she asked.

Nick smiled. "No, it doesn't. Either that or she's a damn good actress," he said and glanced at Sara.

Sara fast-forwarded the surveillance tape from the motel's reception office. The young woman's partner had left just before the owner of the hotel returned. "He didn't want to be seen… his face at least."

"Yeah."

"So the first victim pays for the room. The manager never gets a look of the guy… Where's the other woman?"

"In the car maybe?"

"Did the victims know each other?"

"Not as far as the statements go…" Nick picked up some documents and began going through them.

"Jessica… her… she pays for one room. How did he get the other one?"

"Maybe Brittany was friendly enough with our suspect to as well."

"No, there were barely any defensive wounds on Brittany, but plenty on Jessica."

"Maybe those two planned Brittany's kidnapping but something went wrong, a fight for a better share of the money and so on… that ended up with Jessica being found stabbed to death cuffed to the bathroom door handle."

"It's plausible." Sara nodded.

When the viewing of the tape had finished, Nick looked over at Sara. "I'm gonna check the parking lot again, just to be sure."

"Ok."

"Sara… I was meaning to ask you something."

Sara was waiting for this. "Sure, what?"

"What were you and Grissom doing in that motel room?"

Sara looked back at him. She appeared puzzled but tried to mask her lack of surprise to such a question.

"Two days ago?"

"Oh, that. Processing the crime scene," she simply replied.

"Really."

"Yes, really." She paused. "You don't seem to believe me."

"It's just that… if you were processing the scene that had already been finished by me and Warrick… I think Grissom would've asked me come in, don't you think?"

"Didn't you go over the room of the serial killer couple that time with Grissom?"

"That was different."

"How so?"

"Wasn't fully processed. Also, Grissom said fifteen minutes… What took you half an hour in there?"

"You actually timed us?"

"I should've."

"Why are you so interested about this all of a sudden?"

"You go into a motel room already processed, the door's closed, takes you more than fifteen or so minutes to come out…" he shook his head and lifted his hands. "Isn't that supposed to trigger curiosity?"

Sara's eyebrow raised itself as she stared at her colleague doubtfully. "Are you sure you didn't undergo a sex change before you joined the lab?"

Nick smiled. "What?"

"Because you sound like an old maid who has nothing else to do but ask questions about things which shouldn't concern her."

"So, we're going with the 'it's none of your business' reply?"

"Not necessarily. But if you want to see some of the love bites from then, I'll be happy to show you," she teased.

"I'm just saying, gossip starts easily around here."

"Huh, doesn't it everywhere?"

"Not with you two," he said and returned his eyes to the papers in his hands.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, rumors come and go." Readying himself to leave, he was stopped with a gentle hold of his arm instead.

"Could you be more precise?"

"You and Grissom." Seeing her slightly puzzled expression, Nick sighed. "Oh, come on, Sara. You haven't heard those?"

"No, didn't know there were any… not that I'm particularly interested in them…"

"Ok, then." Another attempt of exiting the room was interrupted by Sara's voice.

"Hey… What kinds of rumors?"

"The most popular ones?" He smirked. "Doctors and nurses," Nick said and finally walked away.

Sara stood there motionless except for the twitch of her left lip and a couple of blinks. This was surprising and unpleasant to know; last thing which Sara needed had been for an empty-headed rumor to fly around of her sleeping with the boss. Given her somewhat strange relationship with Grissom, this did not register well with her at all. They had never shown signs of anything resembling such physical interaction. Why would others build rumors like that? Sara shook her head and sighed. People that gossip about other people have truly no room for their own life it seems.

* * *

Grissom had finished with a report when Sara walked into his office. "Hey," he heard her call him. He looked up at her. The blue top and black jeans didn't fail to emphasize her delightfully youthful appearance, allowing Grissom to unwillingly admit to himself that he enjoyed seeing her in this way. "Hey, Sara."

"What's up?" Sara asked after she had received a paged message from him.

He looked down at his papers. "Found out our suspect has been to the Shimmer strip club recently."

"Want me to check it out?

"Yeah. We're going."

"We?"

He looked up at her. "Yes."

"Oh… ok."

"Something wrong?"

"No." She paused. She felt curious. "Heard any of the rumors about us?"

"Your predictions came true then."

"Yes, who's fault's that I wonder."

"You could've declined my offer, Sara."

"You could've made it less conspicuous."

Grissom smirked.

"Apparently the closed door sparked a few gossip fires out there."

"Like what?" Not much curiosity was shown in that question.

"Like the dirty category?"

"Oh, I see." He tilted his head slightly and slowly stood up. He began tiding the smaller stacks of paper as he spoke. "People need a distraction from their own empty lives when they start gossiping about others," he replied and left his desk. Grissom did not appear bothered or curious about that piece of news at all. He treated it instead like worthless information not valuable of attention or even a discussion.

Sara sighed quietly. "That's what I thought also," she agreed. Sara noticed his dismissal of the subject, and had she dared to probe into it regardless of that dismissal, it would not only make it uncomfortable even further, but it would open doors to subjects that were not ready to be discussed just yet. She soon noticed her supervisor stop in front of her. There was some expectancy on his face. "What?" she asked.

"Are we going?"

Of course, what else could have he been waiting for? "Oh, yeah. Sorry." Sara quickly turned around and gradually walked out.

While witnessing her exit, a wayward curl shaped his lips. As much as the news was surprising to him and even uncomfortable – reminding him just once again of the never-ending and pitiful curiosity of other human beings about the personal lives of others – it was also slightly amusing seeing Sara's reaction to it and to his apparent "dismissal" of the subject.

One day those rumors might not be rumors any more after all.


	3. chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.

* * *

The familiar and busy atmosphere of the club; the snakelike movements of its dancers captivating the majority of male guests; the flow of money and drinks were played out for the thousandth time in front of the eyes of the two new visitors as Grissom and Sara walked inside.

Whether it was seen as empowerment of women using their bodies as tools to control the desire of men or simply the sleazy usage of women for profit, it made Sara cringe.

Walking up to one of the dancers, Grissom pulled out a photograph. "Excuse me," he called the brunette with her back turned to the CSIs.

Turning around, the dancer smiled seductively back at them. "How nice. My mad scientist is back." Her arms were willing to wrap themselves around Grissom but found a place on her waist instead.

Grissom smiled politely back at the familiar young woman while his senses picked up a glance from Sara. He knew she was piling up questions in her mind now.

"Changed your mind about the dance?"

"Well, actually-"

"We're here to ask a few questions," Sara interrupted. Even Grissom wasn't perfect.

"Oh," the seductiveness of the smile was slowly drained away but it did not change the dancer's working attitude. Everyone could be a potential customer. "I'm here to serve," she responded.

"Have you seen this man?" Sara showed the photograph to the young woman.

"No, but you could ask Jasmine over there," the dancer nodded behind them. "She might know."

"Thank you," Sara withdrew the photograph. Having stood close to the runway, with tons of purple glitter falling down as if on a parade, Sara turned her head to her right to see another exotic dancer moving to the music. Watching the movements and their synchronization to the melody, it didn't take Sara a lot of imagination to picture Catherine here. In fact, it appeared easier than she thought.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like a dance?" the dancer tried another move on Grissom.

Had Grissom worn his glasses this time, he would've made the same gesture and removed them for a better view of the woman. She appeared persistent enough and with a good memory at that.

"When I saw you with your friend," the dancer glanced at Sara. "I thought you really _had_ changed your mind. And… with a good companion, I should say," she said and smiled.

This drew Sara's attention back to the young woman in front of them. The dancer's suggestion did not appear interesting to her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name last time," Grissom asked her.

"Lily," the dancer leaned forward. "But you can call me anything you like," she glanced at his tag. "Gil Grissom."

Sara threw them both a look. Another side of Grissom which perhaps she hadn't known about? That would certainly not be a surprise. "Does every dancer have a flower name here?" There wasn't much pleasantness in her voice, though she tried to keep some in it.

"Hey, whatever makes us more interesting…" Lily's arms moved slowly above her head as her eyes returned to Grissom. "And wanting."

"Ok, thanks for your time," Sara kept her politeness and turned around to look for the other dancer. Feeling the absence of Grissom's presence, Sara spun around once more to find Grissom standing in the same spot. "Hey, Grissom!" she called out to him.

That managed to snap the man's attention away as he turned to look at her.

"Coming?" she asked.

"Yeah." He then gave a polite nod to Lily and walked away.

She would've asked the questions later if curiosity wasn't getting the best of her. "Friend?" she couldn't resist.

Grissom shrugged. "Acquaintance," he responded.

Sara smiled briefly. Was Grissom enjoying with teasing her or was there something else involved? Not much thought was left for those questions when they approached another employee of the club. "Are you Jasmine?"

The tall blonde looked back at them, her gaze applying the same layers of "professional seductiveness" as Lily. "Haven't had a couple in a while. What do you have in mind?"

Grissom and Sara looked at each other. Not a tempting offer.

"We're…" Sara turned to Jasmine. "With the Vegas Crime Lab."

"Would like to ask you something," Grissom said.

"Sure," Jasmine crossed her arms. No customers.

Sara showed her the photograph, hoping for a positive identification this time. "Has this man been to this club recently?"

Taking the photograph, Jasmine studied it for a while. "I think so. It looks like him anyway. Don't think he stayed much; came in for a quick lap dance. Lousy tipper," she said and returned the picture.

"Did you take a good look of his face?"

"Guys like that don't go on my favorites list, meaning not a lot of memories, if any," she said, her flat voice matching her answer.

"Nothing distinguishable about him?"

"I have a hundred customers or more each week. Don't remember them all, especially if they're not big tippers or with some… special requests."

"For example?" Sara asked.

Jasmine looked back at Sara. "People's fantasies take on the strangest forms, Miss."

"How strange?"

"You'd be surprised from the requests I get. Men, women…" Jasmine shook her head. "Sometimes even money doesn't cover it."

"Ok. Um, what about these two?" Sara showed a photograph of the two victims.

"This one…" she tapped the face of Brittany, "No. But this one…" she pointed at Jessica. "Yeah, I remember her. She wanted the works. Great tipper." Jasmine smiled.

"Alone?" Grissom asked.

"Yeah."

"Was she here on the same night as him?" Grissom showed the photograph of the suspect.

"I don't know." Her answer an honest one. "Sorry, that's all I got."

"Thank you," Grissom replied. It was a good time for them both to leave.

Soon after, they finally left the crowded strip club, and were met with a beautiful change when the cooler night air greeted them with a gentle brush against their faces. "An exploitation of the female sex minus the actual physical part. Why don't they just make prostitution legal worldwide?"

"It could be considered an _art_ of seduction, Sara. Touch and taste but without going too far."

"Ah, yeah. Like your enchantment with our beauties in there." Sara smirked.

"We are biologically designed to respond to such displays." Grissom responded, letting Sara play with the thought.

Sara took a brief glimpse of her supervisor. "When all else fails, try a scientific explanation, is that it?"

"Hey, it works most of the time." Grissom smiled softly.

Sara chuckled. "This coming from a man who enjoyed a vibrating motel room bed," she said and stole another glimpse from him.

"But not the only one," Grissom managed the same.

The short silence which followed gave Sara enough time to run quickly through a couple of options for a proper answer. "Well… it was nice." She knew her enjoyment of the experience would come back to haunt her.

"So nice in fact that you agreed on another turn." Grissom kept his smile. He relished this. Sara's attempt to conceal the pleasurable experience and its effects on her was a delightful sight to witness.

"It helped me think." She started with excuses.

"About?"

"That's private," she replied.

"Hmm. You never told me what was so funny afterwards."

"I said that I'd _probably_ tell you. Not a definite answer."

"Doesn't mean I'm not willing to ask again."

"How's this: It's a secret."

"Secrets have a way of being spilled."

"Not this one. You ask too much."

Grissom shrugged. "_I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious_, as Einstein once put it."

"Won't do you much good with this," Sara responded.

"Not this time perhaps."

Sara's stare was longer this time. It was the deep and playful tone with which Grissom's reply was given that drew her eyes on him. But even though her own curiosity was digging inside her, she wouldn't give out so easily; at least, not until Grissom did.


	4. chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.

* * *

"You're serious?" The short brunette looked at her colleague. "An hour?"

"Yeah. Steve, you know from reception? He heard it from someone that was at that motel. The supervisor Grissom went in there and like a few minutes later comes Sara Sidle…"

"Oh my god… Sidle? Sara? Wasn't she the one that almost quit 'cause of him?"

The dirty-blonde woman next to her shrugged. "They must've patched things up, 'cause shortly, like, after she came inside, they closed the door!"

Kristy gasped. "Why?"

"No one knows. But apparently there was um… how are they called, you know those vibrating beds?"

"Magic fingers?"

"Yeah, yeah, something like that."

"Oh, you don't think they were actually… I mean, at the crime scene?"

"No, that Grissom doesn't seem the type to me."

Kristy snorted. "Yeah, I agree. When was the last time _that_ guy got laid?"

"Before Sara, you mean?"

Kristy nodded. The two women seemed oblivious to their male colleague behind them.

"Who knows? Apart from this, no one really knows much about his love life. But I wouldn't mind giving it a shot." Chelsea giggled.

"With him? Ok, he's cute, but… isn't he old enough to be your dad or something?"

Chelsea leaned closer to Kristy's ear. "You know men in high positions turn me on." She then leaned back with an interesting smile.

Kristy snorted again. "Good luck getting through that man."

"You think I was gonna try anything long-term? Get real."

"I thought that…"

Chelsea burst laughing. "I wanted to screw the guy, not date him!"

"So, why you're still here?"

"He's taken. I don't wanna get my fingers in hot water if you know what I mean. Anyway, we were talking about those two!"

"What else did you hear?"

"Well, you know two weeks ago when Sara went to his office and, again closed the door, then came out like… I don't know, three hours later!"

"Yeah."

"Her hair was a mess! She was still adjusting her clothing." Chelsea shook her head. "That was _not_ a quickie!"

"They must've talked first."

"Yeah, maybe."

"They're strange though. Grissom and Sara… I mean, they're damn good at hiding their affair."

"I agree. They kinda look nice together… and I don't even like Sara."

"Yeah."

After the eavesdropping was done, Nick cleared his throat and called over to the two women. "Uh, excuse me." With that he managed to get their attention as Kristy and Chelsea turned around to look at him. "All the sugar's gone here, you ladies happen to have any with you?"

"Oh, yes." Kristy smiled and grabbed the sugar in front of her before handing it over to Nick.

"Thank you." Nick smiled and quickly put some of the white sweetener in the coffee. He then turned around and just as quickly exited the break room. Too much gossip….

* * *

The suspect's car had been discovered just outside of the city, or more precisely in the desert, a few hours ago. Grissom and Sara went over to the scene to scan the area for any valuable clues before the car was to be taken.

Having found some red fibers on the driver's seat, Sara placed the evidence in the correct baggie and was writing down the found contents on the surface of the paper. The hot sun had practically fried the top layers of her skin, leaving Sara to curse at herself for wearing the wrong type of shirt. Then slowly, the yellowy heat started to be gently pushed away by a cooler shade, covering her back like a silky cloak, chilling her sweetly. Sara smiled and even exhaled quietly. That felt good.

"Found anything else?" Grissom asked her.

"Damn," Sara thought. "Yeah," she replied. "This!" and handed him the new piece of evidence without looking at him. Frankly, his shadow was God-sent for her now.

"Hair?"

"Probably." Sara pulled her cap down and stood up, but felt reluctant to move. If it were physically possible, Sara wanted to steal Grissom's shadow and cover herself with it. It would at least provide good protection for her skin.

"Let's check the trunk," Grissom proposed and moved away from her, forcing a childish but unnoticeable wince from Sara.

Knowing that a run would give her the image of a puppy running after its owner, Sara took casual steps while following Grissom to the back of the vehicle. They soon stopped in front of the trunk, with Sara's right arm almost colliding with Grissom's left one. What would he make of her reason for this nearness anyway? Something to amuse himself with, no doubt.

Opening the trunk, the heat with temperature matching that of the outside quickly escaped the confiding space and straight towards the two people in front of it. The sudden blow carried some unpleasant smell, forcing a slight gag and cough from both Grissom and Sara.

"Did someone urinate in here?" was the first question asked.

"I hope not," was Grissom's response.

"Hopefully we're wrong."

Grissom's left lip curled due to her sentence. "Let us hope that. But, hey, it could've been worse. He could've sh-…"

Sara interrupted him. "Hey, uh… No need to add other possibilities."

Sara's rejection set off a silent chuckle out of the man as he took the camera to photograph the evidence. "Has anyone told you what joy it is to work with you?" He knew the look even before he received it from Sara.

"Has anyone told you you're unbearable at times?"

"Thank you," his lips kept the smile as he replied. "But why, if I may ask?"

"You may not."

"Sorry?" He looked at her.

"You may not ask."

"Secrecy again?"

"Aha."

"Sometimes it's not that good to be so secretive."

Sara smirked. "You should talk." She shook her head and began documenting the evidence.

Sara's response drew in Grissom's gaze upon her. He sighed. What secrets he kept, at least the majority, were something that he felt unsure that Sara should know about so soon. Her signs of withdrawal from him did not seem apparent, leaving Grissom to only hope that she would continue to be patient with him, and that he would grab sooner rather than later to let some of those secrets out in her presence.

After gathering the rest of the evidence, and leaving themselves with the task of returning to the lab, they started heading back to their cars. Sara's eyes rushed curiously over to the surface of Grissom's jacket and made her wonder how well as a protection that material must serve. She should have taken a jacket of her own. The deep blue color and her thoughts unconsciously snatched the scorching reality for a few moments, perhaps because she wished that the soft material could magically melt, flow away from Grissom, and finally touch the surface of the dry ground where it would transform itself into a small, cool pool where Sara could take a long, relaxing dip in. "Rock." She heard Grissom say.

"Um?" Sara snapped away and looked at him.

"Rock!" he repeated and nodded in front of them.

Quickly turning her face in front, her feet immediately cemented themselves to the ground after her eyes spotted a taller rock only a few inches in front of her. Had she stopped any quicker, her movements would have given her a real cartoon-like reminder with her hands spinning franticly to help her achieve balance in time, while her toes being the only parts of the body keeping her attached to earth. Looking at the height and density of the rock, the crash would've left a nasty bump on her head. "Oh, thanks," she said and took a quick step to the right, allowing her to circle the structure to her left, leaving Grissom on the other side.

"Someone let a daydream take over?"

"What? Oh, that… ye-… no, I was just thinking about the case," she said.

"Anything to share?" he asked with his hands in his pockets.

"As soon as I come up with something concrete, yeah." She exhaled. "Way too hot today," and said.

Grissom smiled "You'll be breathing recycled air again pretty soon," he said and opened the door of his car while keeping an eye on her.

"I can hardly wait," Sara responded and sat on the passenger seat next to him.


	5. chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.

* * *

The silence was beginning to get boring for her never-resting mind, and had it not been for the cooler temperature inside the vehicle, Sara would've gone completely insane with the heat that would've made her twitch and turn in all the wrong places. Her curious little eyes bouncing from one place to another of the interior as the dull site of the almost empty road and the desert, its repetitiveness and lack of interest lost her focus a long time ago.

Having barely finished her scan of the car's surroundings, next to her seat she noticed a folded newspaper. Curious, she took it and saw the crossword puzzle on it. She smiled. "Well, this is certainly a shock," she said softly.

"What is?" Grissom glanced over at her. Sara didn't meet his gaze so he followed hers and saw the newspaper in her hands.

"It's not finished." She finally turned her head to him and showed him a clearer view of the crossword. "You only filled out half of it."

Grissom shrugged. "I got called in," he replied simply, trying not to detach his attention from the road.

Sara smirked. "Oh, a toughie… no wonder you haven't completed it," she teased after noticing it had been a copy of a certain famous newspaper.

"Lack of free time." He gave an excuse for himself.

"Ah, there's always time for an exercise of the mind, Griss," she leaned in briefly as she spoke before leaning back on her seat, only noticing a momentarily smile from her supervisor. "It's been a while since I did one of these," she said almost musingly.

Unnoticed by her, Grissom took a glimpse of her behind his glasses.

"Got a pen?" she asked.

"What?" his question sounded absent-minded.

"Pen. Writing object with ink in it?"

Grissom exhaled deeply. He wanted to reply when Sara interrupted him.

"Oh, wait. I had one," she said. A click was heard before she slowly dropped her pen-holding hand on the newspaper.

"What are you doing?"

Sara looked up at him. His tone wasn't a very playful one. "What does it look like I'm doing? Filling out the rest of the words," she responded.

"Don't you dare join that pen with the paper."

"Excuse me?"

"I'd like it to be the way it was when I get back to it."

His response caused an irresistible little smile to find itself on her face. "You think that might be anytime soon?" she dared him.

"You think I've never finished a crossword puzzle I've started?"

"As surprising as it may sound, I rarely see you with one." She pointed out.

Grissom smiled briefly. He usually spent his time with the crosswords and other mind puzzles and games privately. It was no surprise that he wasn't seen much with it. "I like my privacy."

"So do I," Sara's voice was a tender and quiet one, not reachable for Grissom's ears.

"I'll get back to it," he said, referring to the crossword in Sara's possession.

Instead of taking his hint and returning the newspaper back to where it was found, Sara kept her sweet grin and marked the first word. "I'm sure you will," she told him.

Seeing this, Grissom only sighed. He would have finished the rest when time allowed him to, but not this time. Instead – and because of the lack of traffic on the road – he could steal a few glimpses of his subordinate and see how well she will manage. For now, Grissom was pretty confident she would not succeed much.

Sara's writing was fluent, barely giving a pause for a thought, almost as if her hand had known each question by heart, giving an impression that she had done puzzle solving of this kind in the past. Then, she took a longer pause. "Uh, Grissom…" she started. "The seventh largest river in the world isn't Lena. It's Amur."

"Is it?" he tried to sound surprised.

Sara grinned. "It's actually eleventh… The Lena river."

"And how?" he sounded little curious.

"The Lena River in Siberia is 4,260 kilometers long, whilst the Amur River in northeast Asia - 4,410 kilometers long."

"Huh. I was distracted when I did that."

"Did what?" she faked puzzlement.

Grissom sighed and only threw her a glance. He knew she was teasing again.

Sara chuckled. "Everyone gets at least one word wrong in these crosswords," she assured him. Grissom could admit when he was wrong but she knew it wasn't the easiest thing for him.

"Especially when losing their concentration."

"Must've been a big distraction."

Grissom only smiled without an answer to her comment. He did not wish to answer her, and it felt somewhat discomforting to him when he heard her correction. Not a correction on a case but on a mind-engaging hobby or pastime such as this.

* * *

"Definitely the second victim's?" Nick asked Warrick of the hairs that were found by Sara yesterday.

"Identical."

A moment later, Sara walked in the room. "Hey, guys!"

"Hey," same greeting was received from both men.

Noticing Nick, she asked. "Is it a match?"

"It's Jessica's," Warrick replied and took one of the photographs and handed it to Sara. "And Brittany's bruises are consistent with those of a belt," he added.

Sara was observing some of the bruises found on the second victim on the photographs, and then took the small belt that was recovered from the scene, used to tie the victim's hands to the chair, for observation. "Found anything on it?"

"Fingerprints were recovered from the belt that matched Jessica's," Warrick responded.

"First a partner, then a victim."

"Or a victim all along," Nick said while checking the handcuffs.

Sara smiled. "I wouldn't say that."

"Why's that?"

"Because that's not what the evidence is telling us." Sara shook her head and placed the photograph on the neon table. "Ok. So, presumably that Jessica and the suspect were… partners… They kidnapped Brittany."

"No signs of a struggle in the car," Warrick said.

"And that is the same car… the tire treads at the "Pink Stick" parking spot were identical," Nick added.

"Someone, the killer probably, held a gun to her head as she sat in the back seat."

"Jessica in the front. She drove," Warrick said.

"They keep her for two days… on the third, go to the motel," Nick said.

"Jessica pays for the room. They go in. Tie up Brittany. No ransom demands…" Sara said.

"They strangle her. Then two hours later… He kills Jessica," Warrick nodded.

"Our guy's got a problem. Probably panics. Ditches his car."

"And that's where we've come to," Nick said.

"Yes," Sara said and sighed.

"Just need to find him…" Warrick finished.

* * *

Holding a small stack of documents Grissom rushed in the DNA lab. "Next time you decide to interrupt me in the middle of a very important meeting, Greg, for a reason I presume is extremely important, do so without being a kid and ringing my cell phone repeatedly," his voice announced a very annoyed man, while his eyes just above the frame of his glasses watched the lab technician sharply.

"I'm sorry. Just wanted to make sure you got my message," Greg's lively tone hid his nervousness rather well.

Grissom's eyebrow was raised at the young man's silly excuse and that 'always-happy' attitude of his. "Why did you call me?" This time he was just plain tired.

"That yellowy substance you found in the trunk – definitely urine."

Grissom lip stretched without going to a smile. "Thank you, Greg," he replied with a scrunched face. "Anything else?"

"Nope!" Greg shook his head while his hands helped him lean well against the table.

Grissom did not want to bother with a reply, so he simply turned around and exited the lab. On good days, he could tolerate the lab technician's humor. On bad, however… that was different.


	6. chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.

* * *

Walking down the corridor and towards Grissom's office, Sara was suddenly met by Warrick who almost crushed into her. "Hey, where are you headed?" she asked cheerfully.

Warrick sighed. "Home. Bed," he replied.

Sara chuckled and tapped his arm as she passed him. "Ok. Have a nice day."

Seeing the direction Sara was taking, Warrick stopped her. "Where are you off to?"

Sara turned around to face him. "Grissom."

"Uh." Warrick shook his head. "Not a good idea."

"Why not?"

"He's not in his best mood right now."

"That answer suggesting that I shouldn't go in?"

"Yep."

Sara looked at the door and then shifted her gaze back at him. "I think…I'll… take my chances," she nodded, rushing the last three words.

"Good luck." He waved towards her and walked away, leaving Sara standing in the same place in front of the door. Being already slightly opened, Sara knocked softly on it and then just as gently pushed it forward, revealing his quiet presence behind the desk.

She stepped inside the office without receiving any sign from Grissom that her presence had been acknowledged. He appeared to be absorbed in the material he was reading, his finger and thumb holding his face, while his other hand loosely held a pencil hovering above the edge of his desk. It did not seem like a good idea for her to suddenly interrupt him like this, so she quietly closed the door behind her. The click of the door managed to lift his eyes at her for only a second. By the time Sara turned around to look at him again, those blue eyes were no longer watching her. "Got a minute?" she asked.

"No," he replied; his voice was dry.

"It's about the case."

"That you solved it? Warrick told me. Congratulations."

Sara's hands placed themselves firmly on her waste as she received not a single look from her supervisor. His voice sounded dull to her. "Ok… um, bad night?" she was curious. Getting no response from him, Sara took that silence as a positive answer. "Work-related or personal?"

"I'm busy, Sara."

"'Cause if it's something to do with work I can…"

Leaning forward, Grissom finally looked up at her. "I had a long night, and had to go through the same - painful I should say - questioning session with Catherine, so please… spare me, alright?"

Sara smiled tenderly. "You're not upset about the whole crossword thing, are you?"

Grissom smirked. "I wish that _was_ the reason."

"So, it's not about work."

"It is about work… Politics makes a person very ugly, both outside and inside," was his final response to the building questions from Sara.

Sara felt silent for a while, watching him lean back in his seat and returning to his reading. "Yeah, it does have a way of screwing things up. Nasty pollutant."

"Is that all?"

"Um, no. My shift's over, wanna go for a walk?"

"I'm fine."

"I'm sure, but there's nothing like the nice polluted urban air to clear your mind a little."

"I'm leaving in a few minutes, so… no, thank you." He looked up at her.

"What a coincidence, so…" The colder way his eyes almost pierced through her, cut off the original sentence and replaced it with another. "Uh, ok, Griss. See you tomorrow, then?"

"As usual," he said and looked down at his papers one last time, signaling Sara that her time to leave had arrived.

"Good night," Sara said quietly and without making a sound, left his office.

* * *

When the cold night air met him after his shift had ended, Grissom inhaled, though not too deeply, as the air here was not a very pleasant one for the lungs. Feeling the bitter taste of the particles, it made him wish for another visit in the forest. Somewhere away from the angry noises of the city and more importantly, the cleaner, truly breathable air. As he exhaled, his eyes closed for a few moments. Sara had been right, he really needed a walk. Damn that woman, she could be right about so many things. "Oh, look who came out of his cave?" He then heard a female voice. His eyes opened and he noticed the thin, tall woman leaning against her car with crossed arms. Grissom stopped. His car wasn't far away from hers. "Were you waiting for me?" he asked her.

Sara moved her shoulders uneasily. "No. Just wanted to make sure you kept your promise and went out."

"So, you _were_ waiting for me."

"Maybe."

"Why?"

"Was worried."

"What's there to be worried about?"

Sara looked at him for a while. "Yeah, you're probably right. There's nothing." She shrugged and pushed herself off the vehicle's side.

Watching her pull out her keys to unlock the door, Grissom felt something shine over his head. He got an idea. Pretty gutsy, and one which required much strength but he dared to try anyway. "Up for a walk?" he asked.

Sara stopped her movements, turned around and looked at him. "Come again?"

"A walk. Or are you tired?"

"No, no, I'm not. You… wanna take a walk?"

"You said it'd be a good idea."

Sara folded her arms again. "Should I ask what changed your mind?"

Grissom looked around with his right hand stretched out as if with the intention of grasping the air. "Must be something in the polluted air," he said and looked back at her. He wasn't back to his happier mood but he managed to leave the grouchiness behind. It surprised him. He didn't know whether it had indeed been the air, the longer time he spent in his office on his own, or… something else… and his eyes were looking at it, and rather softly, if one could add.

Sara tilted her head and moved her lips while keeping a wide smile. "I didn't mean with me."

"Oh, you didn't?"

Sara shook her head. "I know you like to do these things on your own… amongst others."

"Not every time."

"No?"

"No. You don't believe me?"

"Oh, I do. It's just that… ah, never mind. Your private life is none of my business."

Grissom smiled gingerly. "And you've taken interest in that?"

"Many people around the lab do," she replied, not giving a direct answer.

Grissom nodded, somewhat amused by Sara's choice of topics. "Alright then. Coming?"

"Um," she glanced at her keys. "Sure," she agreed reluctantly.

Their feet followed the pathway drawn by the cemented ground absently, their minds not really caring where that path might end. Cars would pass by them; a few teenagers, and a woman with a dog, but beside all those brief disturbances, it was a quiet evening. Fifteen minutes passed before one of them finally decided to open their mouth. "You seem better," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Your mood. Quite a change than that in the office earlier."

"I guess a walk _can_ do wonders."

"It's only been fifteen minutes," Sara noted.

"For some it takes fifteen hours, for others, like me, fifteen minutes."

Sara chuckled. "God, you are completely unconvincing, Grissom."

"What, you don't think it could happen so quickly? That a walk – and once again I emphasize this being your idea – can help better a mood?"

"The second part - yes, the first one… I-uh, don't really think so. Maybe for some, but…"

"Want me to start telling jokes to convince you?"

"No! Please don't." Sara shook her head.

"Then I count on your good judgment to believe me that it's working."

Sara tilted her hand to her right and then left side as she quickly but hesitantly subdued to his request. "Fine."

The chilly air took a few bites of Sara's bare arms, letting her know how cold it could get this time of the night. Instinctively, the brunette hugged herself and began rubbing her arms to ease the goose bumps and not allow the warmth to remind her once again of a badly chosen shirt.

"Getting cold?" Grissom asked her.

"I forgot to be a good girl and take my sweater."

"Maybe you should go back."

"What? And miss the fun of a nice quiet walk such as this one? No way!"

"Ok, _we'll_ go back."

"No, hey. I don't mind. I'm good. Aren't you cold?"

"I'm fine as I am." He sighed and cursed for not bringing a jacket at least for himself to cover her up. "You'll be the death of me one day, Miss Sidle," Grissom said and without giving it further thought, captured Sara's shoulder with his arm. Once his skin was in contact with hers, however it felt uncomfortable enough to send a shiver or two down his spine, he couldn't allow her to catch a cold.

"Um, Grissom?" Sara peaked at the gentle male fingers that softly gripped her shoulder.

"It's either that or you freeze to death… since you refuse to go back," he told her.

"But I'm telling you I'm fine." His hand on her suddenly sparked a small flame of nervousness inside her.

"And I'm telling you, it's not a good idea to disagree with your supervisor."

She didn't argue further as the pressure of Grissom's body against her own was doing her good. The shivers gradually disappeared, her lips stopped shaking, and she felt warmer. It was a pleasant embrace, even if it included only one arm, and as much as she hated to admit it, it felt soothing. Her skin didn't complain, but let his touch almost melt into it, welcoming it.

Grissom didn't look at her face. He felt nervous to do so. Holding Sara this way was bad enough for him, he didn't need any more pushes towards his own pit of cowardly nervousness. The difference in their height wasn't big, giving his face an uncomfortable nearness with hers. He pushed his head back, then to the left. He had to distance it as much as possible without making it seem odd. The closeness was giving him dangerously red signals. His arm though, loved its position. His fingers held onto her shoulder as if holding onto a delicate piece of art, strong enough not to let it slip away, but at the same time delicately enough not to break it. Constantly reminding himself that this was done with the only purpose to not let one the most valuable employees of the Las Vegas Crime Lab catch an unwanted cold, Grissom tried to let himself be loose for a while and accept the peaceful surroundings with an, subconsciously acceptable, mate.

They walked in silence. It was fitting, perhaps more than the two of them were truly willing to admit. They took a left turn. A bench was seen on the left side with an old couple sitting on it. Grissom and Sara passed them. "Oh, look, Larry," the old lady told her husband. "How often do you see a couple like this around here?"

Sara sighed, expecting a mocking comment from either of them, when she heard a completely different one.

"Not often. And this time of night. How long would you say they were married, Mildred?" the husband asked.

"Let me see… oh, ten years."

"My money's on twelve."

"I guess you could be right. How often can you walk with someone like that and enjoy being quiet with them?"

The husband chuckled. "Very rarely."

Sara swallowed. She couldn't pass the elderly couple without overhearing their conversation. It appeared sweet but at the same time a little disturbing. How could anyone think of them as a couple? Let alone in marriage. And such a long marriage?

Grissom on the other hand, smiled. He took it as a compliment and a slight relief; having not been thrown at with the comment of an older man with a younger woman. Though, the long age of the presumed married life puzzled him also.

They walked further, longer, at times slower. Somehow neither of them felt the need to rush. The rush would destroy their moments. Moments? What moments? It was only a simple walk. But neither complained nor said a word.

Then, they noticed something. The night was paler; the air was getting warmer; the sun was peaking behind the mountains and hills… from somewhere, not yet identifiable.

"Morning sure came quickly," Sara said, bewildered by the briefness of the night.

Grissom looked at his watch. His eyebrows crossed. The hand had moved… three hours ahead. "This must be some mistake," he thought and removed his arm, although it complained the moment his hand abandoned her skin. "Sara, what time is your watch?"

"Um," she glanced at it and then at his. "The same."

"Strange…"

They stopped. Grissom and Sara looked at each other. How could the time pass them so quickly? They took a step back, giving each other some distance. Subconsciously they were clearly aware of the reason, but their consciousness let them hold onto the belief that it had been some other silly reason. "We should head back," Grissom suggested.

"Yeah." Sara yawned. Only now did she realize that her body was aching for a bed and a pillow. "Need some sleep."

"We both do."

Another glance, this time longer, was exchanged and accompanied by a brief smile.

It took them a lot less time to reach their cars, perhaps because this time they rushed back to the parking lot. Both reached for the doors of their cars and looked at each other. "Good night," they wished one another and entered the vehicles.

They both needed sleep and some thoughts to themselves.


	7. chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.

Note: Because of some contents in the story, it was decided for the rating to jump to PG-13.

* * *

Grissom stood only a few feet away from the body of a young man spread out on the hot asphalt next to the open door of his car. "There's one here and another one in the room over there," he said and nodded towards the opened door of room 300.

"Double homicide?" Sara asked.

"Looks like it."

She entered the room shortly after to see a young woman – visibly the same age as the other victim – with her right wrist placed in a handcuff, lying face-down on the bed. Sara shook her head. "What _is it_ about handcuffs that give rise to sexual excitement?" she said and began taking notes of the scene's state and any details worthy enough to be noted on paper.

"People get bored easily," Grissom spoke behind her.

"You're finished with vic number one already?" Sara smiled while writing down some of the noticed information about the female victim's body.

"I got here early," he said. Good excuse.

Sara turned around for a few seconds to look at him before returning to her work. "People need variety."

"You sound like that's new to you."

"It's not like I haven't had much… activity of that kind lately." She paused. It didn't appear like a good idea to go down that road. "Ok… nevermind that."

Grissom smirked. "I won't harass you for information, don't worry. So the second victim…"

"Shot twice in the back."

"Like our guy outside."

"Probably a customer."

"And you found that out h-… oh," he cut him self off when noticing the victim's clothes and some of her accessories on the nightstand.

"Another one with the degree in the oldest profession in the world," Sara said and glanced over at him.

"And a very unlucky one."

* * *

The analysis of the gathered evidence was interrupted when Greg came in with some of DNA results. "Semen found in the second victim was definitely Robertson's," he said and handed the sheet of paper to Grissom.

"So, he was partying on the side," Sara said and held up the small black whip.

"Oh, dirty Diana," Greg snickered before receiving unimpressed looks from both Grissom and Sara. "I'm going back to my cave now," he said quietly, and with a curled posture exited the room.

"Seems these two had quite the party here." Sara couldn't help but be unpleasantly impressed by the variety of erotic gadgets and other accessories that were recovered from the scene.

"Maybe Mrs. Robertson wasn't all that pleased by her husband's little adventure," he said and took the silky scarf.

"Did Brass find her yet?"

"No. She seems to be out of town for now."

"Sneaky," she replied sarcastically. "Seems women can tolerate an affair as long as there's no… love involved, most of them anyway… whilst men freak out when women perform adultery."

"Competitiveness, sense of possession, feeling threatened… the reasons vary."

"You observe well," she said that in a way as a teacher would to her pupil.

"And you're hilarious," with a raised eyebrow he replied.

"It was a scientific paper."

"Haven't read that one."

"It's older."

Grissom nodded to the side. "Seeing as this woman was a lady of the night… it got someone really angry nevertheless."

"Armed with a shotgun at that…"

"So, you've never used them?"

"Used what?"

"These," Grissom said and picked up the handcuffs for a brief moment.

Giving him and odd look, Sara was amazed at the absurdity of the question. "And I look like the type who'd enjoy that?"

Grissom smiled. "Short memory. Forgive me." He enjoyed teasing her.

"You talked to Catherine before coming in here, didn't you?"

Grissom's lips formed a mischievous smile. No further response was needed.

Sara shook her head. Of course there was no need.

"But, I agree with you on cuffs. I'm not a fan of them either."

"I'm certainly shocked," she spoke softly with a smile, trying to make her sarcasm a little less apparent. "So, you have old-fashion views on sex?"

Grissom looked up at her. "What do _you_ think?"

"Ah, so there are still some of you left out there," Sara chuckled gently. She was indeed pleased.

"The world's always been sexually twisted. It's just more obvious nowadays."

"Obvious or not, it never fails to shock me."

"You and me both."

Sara's phone rang. "Yeah?... Aha… She is? Oh, ok. Thanks." She closed her cell and looked at him. "Turns out our second victim was also… a sales clerk."

"Guess we were wrong."

"Yes, we were."

"Look at this," Grissom brought the black silky scarf closer to Sara.

"Looks like she was blindfolded with it," Sara said when noticing the traces of make-up and other unidentified stains.

"I'll take this to Greg," Grissom said and quickly exited the room.

* * *

"I heard you two got quite the case," Catherine's low voice disturbed the brief silence of the room.

"In a way," Sara replied.

"Wow, looks like you've hit the jackpot here!" Catherine's amazement was sounded once her eyes landed on the displayed contents on the table.

"Yeah, aren't we lucky," Sara sounded less thrilled.

"Oh, I remember this one," Catherine said in a giggle as she took a jelled, long and narrow object. "Seems like this girl knew her equipment."

"And it's likely that one of these killed her."

"Better this than something else."

This brought Sara's gaze on Catherine. "You wanna switch cases?"

Catherine smiled. "Why?"

"You seem more into this than me."

"Don't tell me these scare you!"

"I haven't said that."

"Uncomfortable?"

"Haven't said that either."

"Especially with Grissom?"

Sara's eyes narrowed, trying to form some sort of a puzzled expression for her colleague.

"Some don't need words, Sara." Catherine giggled. "As for your tempting little offer… um…" she shook her head. "I can't. I promised Lindsay I'd take her to the zoo and… I owe her a day, you know?"

"Ok. Have fun," Sara grinned at her although slightly disappointed. She needed her peace.

"Thanks. Hope you and Grissom do, too," she spoke teasingly before leaving Sara by herself again.

* * *

"I shall start first off with the two hairs you found in the bathroom. Both belong to a third unknown," Greg said.

"Well, that's not really surprising."

"Next… your magic scarf. Mascara, eye-shadow, sweat and… blood."

"Blood?" Grissom took the report. "Thanks, Greg," Grissom nodded and almost bumped into Sara when he came in the hallway.

"Hey, what did you find?" Sara asked. Seeing as he wouldn't give her results any time soon, Sara leaned in closer to have a look of her own, trying to stay oblivious to the strange glance from Grissom. "Blood?"

"Y-es…" he spoke slowly, waiting for the young woman to move her head farther away from his again. Patience served him well when Sara returned to her original spot shortly after.

"So, either their little game went out of control, or the killer used the scarf to blindfold her."

"Mm." He looked over at her. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"All the way."

"Let's go back at the motel."


	8. chapter 8

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.

Note: Thanks for the reviews:-)

* * *

"We found her body here…" Sara recreated a circle on the bed with her arms while she spoke. "Meaning… she was standing here when she was shot."

"The hairs found in the bathroom then suggest that our killer was probably hiding in it, waiting…" he walked over to the bathroom's door. He then gently pushed the door away with his index finger to reveal the empty white-tiled bathroom.

"Robertson goes outside to get something from his car, meanwhile our girl is here waiting for him."

"While he's out, the killer comes in the room, shoots her, then goes out and shoots him."

"He was caught by surprise. Just like her."

"Yeah… this is where the scarf comes in." Grissom made his way closer to Sara with tightly closed lips while contemplating. "Face the bed," he then said.

"Ok." Sara did what she was told. "And?" Her answer was soon presented in a form of a lengthy black silky scarf held by Grissom. "You're kidding me…" She sensed his intentions and they were not at all satisfying.

"Just to see if we're correct about this."

"You actually brought an identical piece of our evidence…" all enthusiasm was suddenly sucked out and replaced with flatness to cover her inner blushing.

"She probably never saw her killer." Grissom then held up the other end of the scarf, forming a thick black line in front Sara's view frame. "Ready?"

"Is this really necessary?"

"It's only a scarf, Sara."

"It isn't the scarf that's scaring me, Griss. It's what you're intending to do with it that is."

"I would find this to be an inappropriate time, and place, for such an action from my part. But, if I touch you even once on a place that's inappropriate, feel free to file a complaint against me." She crossed her arms and smiled with a raised eyebrow, agreeing with the proposal. "Can we?"

"Ok," she sighed, "ok." She then heard a command. "Close your eyes." His voice was alarmingly softer there. The smooth material soon touched the soft skin of her nose, slightly lower than where it should have been placed, very close to her lips. Slowly it moved up on the line of her nose like a tender caress until it found that correct spot over her eyes, almost giving the feeling of a shy teasing. Pressure was then applied to the ends of the scarf as it was being securely tied up. When she opened her eyes, Sara saw nothing.

"See anything?" he asked her.

"Are you kidding? It's pitch black."

"Good. I'm sorry for not supplying the handcuffs as well, but I didn't manage to find a pair in time."

"Bummer."

"Although I'm sure they would've been very useful in this case."

"Careful, Grissom. We're not alone here," Sara said, hinting to the officer outside.

Grissom smiled. "Thank you for reminding me," he replied.

The next thing that her ears managed to pick up on was the closing of the door. "Nice try, you twerp!" she told herself. "If this is the same one, then she didn't see anything or hear until it was too late," Sara said out loud.

"Exactly."

"Great." Sara's hands reached over to the knot.

"We're not finished."

"But we just proved that…"

"Not yet."

Sara groaned. "Ok, what then?" she collapsed her hands on sides. Her ears detected some footsteps distancing from her. "Uh, Grissom?" she turned her head to the side. The door opened. "Officer?" she heard Grissom's voice.

More solid footsteps were heard nearing the room's entrance. "Yeah."

"Can I borrow your handcuffs please?" There was a pause; no doubt showing the police officer's confusion. "It's for an experiment." Grissom cleared it for him. "You'll have them back very shortly."

"Ok." Some clicks were heard.

"Thank you." Grissom responded and the closing of the door followed.

Sara shook her head slightly and swallowed as the footsteps of her supervisor got considerably louder, signaling her that he was returning to his previous position. "You seriously have _got to be_ joking."

"It's only a test." He assured her.

"I don't know why those cuffs on me are going to play any role in this."

"They will. Why, you're nervous?"

"Do I sound that way?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm not."

"There's nothing to be nervous about. Having these on her would've given her less of a chance to act against the shooter if she had heard anything."

"We know how strong they can be, so there's no reason for you to use them."

"Yes, there is."

"How so?"

"I like authenticity."

"That's good. This is just plain ridiculous."

"Quit objecting already."

"It wouldn't be fun if I did that."

"Sara." He warned her.

This could clearly go on the entire night. "Just don't chain me to the bed and strip me to my underwear, and I'll be fine." She nodded anxiously. Sara heard him smirking. That was not a good sign. "You're not actually entertaining that thought, are you?"

"Sara…" he took her left wrist. "That may be a teenage boy's fantasy, not mine."

"Gee… I'm relieved." She sounded dry. Sara then felt his hand taking her right wrist. Perhaps it had been her love-sick senses or something else, but the way he handled her hands seemed careful and even gentle before the feel of his fingers was replaced by the much colder metal of the cuff. Handcuffed and blindfolded in a cheap motel room with Grissom… that was certainly not one of Sara's fantasies, test or not.

"Um, I don't mean to sound annoying, but… we found only one of her hands cuffed."

"So, he probably started putting them on her when he had to run to the car."

"Yes. Can you take them off now, please?" she asked. This was not very comfortable for her.

"Just one second."

Sara couldn't hear anything. She sighed. For all she knew, Grissom was probably killing himself with laughter. Four seconds passed. "Ok, now?"

"Just a few more."

Sara turned around, feeling annoyed that she couldn't see his face and the expression he might've been making. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Then why don't you un-cuff me?"

"I'm trying to visualize something."

"What?"

"I'll un-cuff you soon, don't worry."

"I'm not sure being in this position with you is very reassuring for me."

"I've almost taken offense to that."

"And it's not like I should apologize either."

"Don't make me throw away the key, Sara."

"I'm sure you're having a ball with this."

"If you only knew," he thought. "This has nothing to do with personal pleasure," Grissom told her.

"Of course not." She didn't believe him. "Now… please…"

"Wait."

Sara groaned again. "Since we're on this case together, don't I have the right to know what's going on?"

"In a minute."

"This is not at all comfortable, just so you'd know."

"I'll take that into consideration."

"So, tell me. What are you doing?"

"I already told you."

"Seriously. This is not funny. Either tell me and un-cuff me, or…"

"Or leave you like that?"

Sara swore that he was smiling right now. "I should've signed on to another case," she mumbled. "Ok! The killer comes in, rips away the blindfold and shoots her in the back, twice. No… she has the blindfold on first. _Then_ the killer comes in, shoots her, rips away the scarf, probably because she or he got angry and then goes after Robertson."

"Explaining why the scarf was found next to the door, and that the blood was probably hers."

"Hers?"

"Yeah, DNA showed it to be female."

"Good, great, we explained that. Now…" she raised her hands behind her as high as possible for Grissom.

"Now, one more thing."

"What a shock," Sara sounded unimpressed, dropping her hands almost hitting her behind.

"Did you hear that?" he asked her.

"Hear what?"

"I just walked over to the bathroom and back. You didn't hear anything?"

"No." She shook her head.

"Mm. After the killer comes close enough, she positions the shotgun…" Grissom touched the middle of Sara's back with his index finger for a moment, keeping his voice soft, "…shoots her," and then removed his finger. "She then goes outside and shoot the husband," he said, never disconnecting his eyes from her, even if he could only see her wavy brown hair and not her face.

"Great, me having told you that only a minute ago. Hands please!" she hinted again.

"Sure," he said and approached her. He took it slowly. Grissom saw how his unexpected advance made her nervous, despite the lack of patience Sara was feeling to be freed from the restrains. Reaching behind her head he untied the knot and just as slowly uncovered her closed eyelids. He waited as the eyelids slowly opened, revealing Sara's warm brown eyes, like two rich, delicious chocolates. The moment she looked at him, her stare shook him inside, even though there was nothing in it; he gasped inside him with a wish to run, but his exterior was as cool as always, not showing a hint of his inner workings to her, not even through the easiest windows to the soul – the eyes.

Grissom took the scarf off first deliberately. Leaving her hands tied gave him an opportunity to uncover her eyes, and have the reason to be this close to her when that moment occurred. Even though the closeness was not a dangerously narrow one, for him it was a stilled proximity more intimate than the moment when he had pinned her down on that evidence sheet.

She never failed to be beautiful. Sara's features were enchanting to him. Grissom sighed to himself. He took a step back, not allowing his gaze to linger on her a second longer. "Turn please," he told her softly. She did and he took the handcuffs off. Grissom expected some remark from Sara, but she appeared unusually quiet as he walked over to the door to return the handcuffs.


	9. chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.

* * *

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Someone had to break that silence, and Grissom chose to be the one to do so.

"Apart that my supervisor was this close to sexually harassing me? Nope."

"I wasn't sexually harassing you," he corrected her.

"Huh, interesting. Didn't know your sense of humor could be gone so quickly," she flashed a weak smile at him and took a deep breath. If she could only hold on to this act, that would have excellent results for her… or at least she hoped for it.

Grissom's left lip curled. "But we proved that we were right at least."

"Yeah, on my expense."

"It was fun." He shrugged.

"You know, there is a limit as to how much I'll let you do that to me."

"Is there? That's too bad."

"You need to stop with that."

"I did something again?"

"The worst thing is when people don't _want_ to admit it."

"You're making it sound like I have a problem."

"No, but you're not that far away from it."

"Upset about how the test went?"

"I just think there wasn't a need to do it. We would've proven… the evidence proved that we were right."

"But our reenactment made it easier."

Sara smirked. "You had to get me handcuffed… both hands. It wasn't an exact reenactment."

"Do I have to repeat my reasons?"

"Did I ask for them?" She got no response for him. "Anyway, too bad we didn't find anything else in the room."

"Why do I sense like you are regretting we actually went back to the scene?"

"I'm not."

"Good. Because…"

"I know, I know. I wanted to go back there as much as you did."

Grissom took a discreet pair of eyes over at Sara as she sighed and adjusted herself better in her seat. It wasn't just the theory that was proven which made him feel content with their return to the scene. He was close to her without having to explain to Sara the real reason. It made him nervous but he liked that closeness. Grissom only wished it did not involve handcuffs and a scarf.

Grissom stood on the other side of the window, watching the ongoing interrogation. Robertson's widow was being interviewed by Brass.

"I talked to Veronica's sister…" Sara spoke quietly when she entered the small room.

"Ok." Grissom kept his eyes on the suspect while listening to what Sara had to say.

"She mentioned how sweet Veronica and her husband were before they got married. Then, Veronica became somewhat possessive of him after the marriage."

Grissom nodded as a sign that Sara's statement was heard. "Let's see what her DNA tells us."

Sara's face turned to the mirror. "That's an interesting cut on her left index finger. Was she asked about it?"

"Yes. Said she cut herself with a knife in the kitchen while making dinner," Grissom replied and glanced over at Sara, not quite satisfied with the suspect's answer.

Sara's eyebrows quickly jumped to the top of her forehead as she thought about that for a moment. "We didn't find any evidence that she may have gotten that cut somewhere in the motel."

"Maybe it happened just before she crashed inside."

"Could be."

Catherine leaned against the door frame with a satisfied smile on her face. "Handcuffs, Gil?"

Sitting behind his desk, Grissom's head slowly rose up for his eyes to have a clearer view of his friend above the frames of his glasses. "What?" he leaned slightly forward, confused by her question.

"Didn't know you had that in you," she said and entered in his office.

"Had what in me?"

"A kinky side."

Realizing what Catherine meant, Grissom smirked and shook his head. "How did you know about that?"

"News travels fast around here."

"Low-life gossip, you mean?"

Catherine lowered her head without losing Grissom's face from her view. "Wanna tell me what exactly happened?"

His blue eyes were the only parts of his face that moved as he kept his confused appearance in front of Catherine. "Um, what do you mean?"

"In the room with you and Sara."

"We were going over the crime scene again." He shrugged.

"And?" she pushed for more information.

"And… we didn't find anything else."

"Come on, you can tell me."

"I would have… If there was anything to be said about it."

Catherine sighed heavily, obviously displeased by his response. "What were the cuffs for, Gil." She placed her hands firmly on her waist.

"A little experiment," he responded quietly and lowered his head, returning to his book.

"What kind of experiment?"

"Well, case-related, obviously."

"What did you do? Chain Sara to the bed?" she teased.

Grissom looked up at her. He then placed his pen on the page of the book and brought his hands together. "One piece of evidence bothered us and we wanted to see how it got to where it did."

"And what did you do?"

"Are you working on the case?" he asked patiently.

"No, but…"

"Then, it doesn't matter," Grissom said and returned his attention absently to the book.

Catherine cocked her head back and crossed her arms. "You're avoiding my question."

"I'm doing no such thing."

"What's the big deal if you _do_ tell me anyway?"

"Why are you so desperate to find out?"

"I'm only looking out for you."

"Sure," he thought and laughed at it to himself. "Didn't realize I was in trouble."

Catherine snorted to this.

"You know me, don't you?"

"That's a pretty lame question to ask someone that _does _and quite well, too."

"Well, if you did, then you'd know the truth behind those rumors and you wouldn't be in here questioning me about it, would you?"

He was a stubborn old man. No matter how much she pushed, Grissom would not tell if he had chosen to do so. "Ok, Grissom. Have it your way," she said and walked out of the office.

Grissom glanced up at the disappearing figure. "How could gossip like that be so appealing to people?" he wondered and once again shook his head before finally getting the chance to return to his reading.

* * *

Once again Grissom and Sara found themselves standing in the observation area and… observing. "They're a match?" he asked without looking at her.

"Definitely a match."

"We got our killer. What did she say?" Grissom asked as he had arrived much later and basically missed the interrogation.

"That she'd let her lawyer do the talking for her."

"Mm… It's up to the jury now."

"Yep." Sara sighed.

"_Though women are angels, yet wedlock's the devil_."

Sara smiled. "Someone I know?"

"Byron," he replied.

"Ah. So, are you one of those who are _for_ marriage or run from it like it's a disease?"

Grissom chuckled. "I think it can be a blissful thing… if you find the right mate." With that soft smile on his lips he looked over at Sara, waiting for her to return that tender stare. After only a brief moment, Sara caught his gaze with her own and smiled tenderly back at him.

Both CSIs then turned back to their guilty suspect in the next room.

* * *


	10. chapter 10

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.

* * *

Crouching down next to the body of an older female, Sara sighed and reached inside her kit. She pulled out a pair of tweezers to remove two red fibers that were caught in the victim's zipper. "No external injuries."

"None so far." Grissom took off his black sunglasses. He looked around. Trees, birds, and a lake. Next to the victim were a tent, an unlit fire, and other camping accessories. "Such a beautiful place. It's a shame to be killed here."

"I know… Ok, I'm done here," Sara said and stood up.

"You can take the body now, David," Grissom told the coroner.

As the young man went to attend to the body, Grissom and Sara with their kits in hand started walking away from the scene when a small growl of some unsatisfied little organs was heard. Grissom glanced at Sara. "Hungry?" he asked.

"No."

"Your stomach seems to be telling otherwise."

Sara pressed her lips as she pulled a wide grin. "Ok, maybe just a little."

"Wanna get something to eat?"

"Is it lunchtime already?"

"According to you it is," he said with an amusing smile.

Sara touched her belly. "Ahem. Yeah… ok." When they finally left the forest behind, she asked. "So, where should we go?"

"I didn't say I was going with you."

Sara twisted her neck, trying to look somewhere else as a changing smile danced across her face. Grissom and his little word games. "Right," she said and pulled out her keys. When she inserted the right key in the slot, Sara was feeling disappointed that Grissom's intention was not the one she hoped for.

Opening the door of his own car, Grissom chose to not enter the vehicle immediately but stand there and allow his eyes to wash themselves in the image of the woman not so far away from him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually shared a meal with Sara… probably because it never happened; not with only the two of them anyway. "But you know…Unless you haven't planned on having lunch with someone… I could tag along."

Sara was about to shut the door when Grissom's proposal reached her just in time. With her sunglasses on, the brown-eyed beauty turned around to look at her supervisor who by now was leaning just in front of the door of his car. His eyebrows lifted, so did his shoulders as the left line of his lips curled. Would he ever stop? Sara smiled. "Come along then, Spot," she said and finally shut the car door.

* * *

The restaurant that was chosen had a distinct fifties feel to it with the chairs, the music from the jukebox and the photographs on the wall of singers and actors from that era. Sara tapped her fingers on the wooden table as she looked around the half-filled area. "Tell me, why did we choose this place again?"

"Because your intestines screamed loud enough to wake up the dead."

"Thank you," she tilted her head slightly with that changing smile of hers.

"You asked."

"Remind me to never do that again." She glanced at the choices of meals and drinks displayed on the board.

"All we need are those kitsch red menus and I'm gonna get the feeling that we're at dinner rather than lunch."

"You know, for some people this is the closest thing that they could come to a date."

"Hmm, yeah. Aren't we so sad…" she glanced up at the menu on the small wooden board before stealing a quick glimpse from Grissom. She swallowed softly. She would simply comfort herself with the thought that Gil Grissom had actually meant him and her earlier for her response to be justified.

When their lunch was brought in and packed in the appropriate paper bags, Grissom and Sara walked out of the restaurant and sat on one of the tables that were outside. As he pulled out his sandwich, Grissom noticed how Sara looked at her watch for the fifth time. "We have ten more minutes. Relax."

"I'm just more used to having lunch in the lab rather than out of it."

"We'll get back in time. And stop looking at your watch. The more you do it, the slower the time will actually pass. You're missing your lunch."

Sara did not respond but unpacked her small vegetarian meal instead. "Sitting here with the boss must give me some advantage with that time I guess."

"Correct. Which is why you don't have to rush as much."

"I'm assured."

Grissom took a bite of his lunch. But Sara was just looking at hers as if the combination of bread, vegetables and fillings had hypnotized her. "Something wrong?"

Sara looked up at him. "No, no, everything's fine."

"Your lunch ok?"

"Aha," Sara said and nodded.

"Ok…" Grissom was about to take another bite of the sandwich when the barks of what sounded like seven dogs not very far away caught his attention.

Meanwhile, Sara used this opportunity to suddenly dig into her meal as if it had been the last eatable piece in this city.

When the dogs and their owners left, and with them Grissom's attention, he looked back at his subordinate to find her ballooned cheeks and a piece of lettuce sticking out from her closed lips. "Didn't know you were _that_ hungry," Grissom said.

Sara's eyes almost froze on his as she felt quite embarrassed by this. She had hoped to eat at least half of her meal by the time he'd look back at her again but obviously he'd done that sooner than planned. She tried to speak for a reasonable explanation to emerge, but the noise coming out of her was made way too unclear by the grinding food inside for words to be formed and understood.

"I get it, Sara. No need to strain yourself," he said, while holding himself from bursting into laughter. Not only was this an adorable site for such a grown woman but it was unusual enough to steal a few chuckles out of a grown man like him.

Sara squeezed her eyes and tried to give him a bitter smile, showing her fragile displeasure of his continues humor on her cost. Grissom could barely restrain himself when few chuckles managed to break through that tiny space between his lips.

"And _what_ is so funny?"

Forming a fist in front of his lips, Grissom tried to push the urge to laugh out loud back but it was growing difficult. "Nothing. Enjoy your lunch."

"It's not a good idea to laugh with food in your mouth, Grissom."

"Fortunately for me, my mouth is empty at the moment."

"Pity," Sara said and took another bite. She blamed her stomach not being able to keep its mouth shut and allowing Grissom to once again to make fun of her.

As for Grissom, he was grateful to Sara's stomach as it gave him an excuse to share these few moments with her. It felt good; making him wonder what benefits there would be if the number of such "breaks" with her increased. Probably very enjoyable. Sara was certainly an enjoyable person to be around.

* * *

"Got the results back. Clostridium botulinum - caused toxin was found in our vic," Sara said and handed the paper to Grissom.

"She had Botulism?"

"Foodborne botulism to be exact."

"Food poisoning… interesting. Makes you think what we were actually eating today."

"Grim, but I'll know who to blame if that does happen."

"Yeah, you."

"Why me?"

"Blaming you for not eating when you should have would be a good start."

"I was in a rush. And anyway, let's not get into that, ok?"

Grissom smiled to himself. "Back to our poisoned victim. Assuming that this came from some sort of canned food… "

"We did find a few in her trash can. I'll go check it out."

"Thank you."

* * *

Seeing as there was nothing unusual about the three opened cans, Sara decided to try for prints when Nick's sudden appearance interrupted her. "Hey, Sara."

"Hey, Nick. What's up?"

"I need your opinion on something."

"Sure. What about?"

"I'm taking this girl to dinner tomorrow night and she's a vegetarian. Seeing as you're familiar in that field… which place would you prefer to… go?"

"Wouldn't it be simpler if you just asked your date what she wanted?"

"It's more of a surprise."

"Oh, leave a good impression, um?"

"Exactly."

"Well…" Sara pondered for a moment. "There was this nice little restaurant two blocks from here that Grissom and I went to yesterday. It had an excellent vegetarian-choice menu."

"You and Grissom went to a restaurant?"

"Yeah…" Sara paused. From the slightly odd look on Nick's face, he was getting the wrong idea. "We went to lunch."

"Oh, I see. Didn't know you t-…"

"It was only lunch, Nick, not a date."

"Right, right. What's the name of the place?"

"Um, Richard's… something. It's like a fifties style spot, you can't miss it."

"Ok… so, you say that it's good?"

"I'm sure she'll love it."

"Thanks, Sara." Nick smiled at her before leaving her by herself.

Sara exhaled deeply. What a way to misunderstand a sentence. She was only glad that no one else overheard this conversation. However, it appeared as if her relief was short-lived when she noticed Chelsea speed away from the room's entrance. Sara leaned her forehead against her fingers as this was not a site she wanted to see. "Great," she thought. "Just what I need… More gossip about us."


	11. chapter 11

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.

* * *

_One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you. You keep lying when you oughta be truthin'._

Sara's foot moved steadily to the rhythm of the song, whilst the lyrics made her chuckle.

_And you keep losin' when you oughta not bet_. The music was on a much louder volume than her ears had been used to, but somehow the song sounded better on this volume through her headphones. Her head soon started following the movement of her foot when she turned a page of the journal.

When Grissom came in his office and noticed Sara's position, he stopped just behind her. "Sara?" he called her. No response. Tilting his head slightly, it was then that he clearly noticed the headphones on her. Exhaling, he wondered whether to simply reach for the stop button on the mp3 player, walk around for her to see him and stop the music herself, or tap her shoulder.

It wasn't long before Sara noticed her supervisor circling the desk to have a seat. This caused her to reach over to her portable player quickly and stop the song.

"Didn't know you carried one to work as well," Grissom said.

"I got bored waiting…"

"Such loud music is torture to the ears."

Sara smirked. "Coming from you?"

"And why the surprised reaction?"

"I caught you listening to your mp3 player twice before… and it wasn't exactly quiet."

Grissom looked up at her, slightly disturbed. His hearing was in trouble then, he couldn't listen well. But that was then and Sara luckily didn't know. "You're still young. Me… whatever happens, happens."

"Not concerned about your hearing?" Sara took off the headphones and leaned back in her chair. "That's odd."

Not wanting to dive into a conversation that might force him to reveal his past surgery earlier than planned, Grissom quickly diverted it to the safer option – the case. "Any findings on the case?" he asked her.

"Y-eah. Well, not on those three cans, but…" she pulled out a sheet of paper with some scales on them. "You know that canned beef we found in her apartment?"

"Aha."

"It had the toxin. Turns out she had a visitor the day before she went camping."

"Her ex. That much we know."

"He was the one that made dinner."

Grissom read the evidence on the sheet of paper carefully. "He poisoned her."

"Yes."

Grissom nodded. He was pleased. "Nice work."

"Thank you. Where were you, by the way? Took you some time to get here."

"Ah, a friend of mine needed some bug advice."

"Oh… what kind of bug advice?"

Grissom looked up at her, not quite expecting from Sara to ask such a question.

"Textbook, remember?"

He smirked. "He was interested in the reproduction of Deroplatys lobata."

"The Malaysian Dead Leaf Mantis?"

"Mm."

"Oh."

"Are you familiar with it?"

"Yes."

"The mating process as well?"

"Some of it." She tried to appear modest and even a bit shy in her response. Frankly, although she had come to learn quite a few things about bugs, she hadn't had the opportunity to really use that knowledge more than that first time. She glanced down at her mp3 player and back at Grissom who was clearly waiting for her to continue. "What, you want me to tell you?"

"Er, yeah?"

"Will it be of any use?"

"Yes."

"Like for example?"

"Like… I might have missed some vital information about them."

"I don't think playing a clueless entomologist does much for you."

"Tell me anyway. I'm curious," he said and leaned his chin on his fist like a school boy eagerly listening to what a teacher might have to say.

"About the Malaysian Dead Leaf Mantis in general?"

"The breeding."

"Um… alright. Well… It's recommendable that both the male and female are at least three to four weeks since their last molt… otherwise they – the female at least – might not be mature enough to breed. Once the female is introduced to the male – and they should of course be left alone, if in captivity – um… it could take only a few hours for the male to mount the female or it might be days… depending. The male may remain on the female for a couple of days… poor girl… and then… ohh, I love this part." Sara grinned. "Afterwards, it is recommendable for the male to be removed so to not be consumed by the female."

It took him longer to respond than anticipated, but he blamed himself for it; for allowing himself be temporarily absorbed by the way Sara had talked about that type of insect. It felt refreshing in a way to hear a colleague speak about a specimen of this man's passion. Surprisingly, Sara appeared not bored or even disgusted by the subject. Either she was an incredible student for every subject presented to her or maybe she had taken some genuine interest in that book about insects that Grissom had given her… a present not hard for him to pick. His knowledge of Sara's wishes for a present was practically empty, so presenting her with a book on entomology was the easiest thing to select. Grissom found it rather amusing that the devouring of the male by the female was a favorite of Sara's. "You find that interesting? The male being eaten like that?"

"He served his purpose."

Grissom chuckled. "But, thankfully, that doesn't happen in the human world."

"Oh, I don't know. It could rid the planet of a lot of male scums out there."

"But some good specimens might fall victims as well. Now, that would be a shame."

Sara smiled tenderly to this. "Sacrifices have to be made."

"Yeah. If you and I slept together and you ate me afterwards, not only is the Lab going to suffer from my loss but, you'll be convicted."

"Terrible." Sara chuckled, although the words _sleep_ and _together_ coming out of Grissom's mouth were slightly unsettling for her. "But I'd probably take that risk… if the intimacy which preceded it was worth it…" she said.

This succeeded in silencing the room for a moment very well. It wasn't just the words that were spoken but, the way in which they were spoken that managed to temporarily suppress the need for verbal expression. "You would be a risk-taker for that?"

"Aren't I for a lot of things?"

"Yes, but for that?"

Her answer was a tender and quiet one. "I would." Sara sighed. She only wished that he could see how worthy she was for Grissom to take a risk for her.

His eyes watched her warmly but not openly. He wanted to but lacked the courage to open. Instead, he felt ashamed. Sara had risked a lot for him. She even stayed when it had truly been better for her to find a working position much more suitable for her. Did Grissom take risks for her? Big risks? No. He wasn't ready to. He wasn't ready and he felt guilty for it. Guilty and ashamed. He looked down at the papers on his desk. "_There are risks and costs to a program of action. But they are far less than the long-range risks and costs of comfortable inaction_," he said quietly.

"John F. Kennedy," Sara guessed it.

Grissom smiled. "Nice to see that the book was of use to you," he said and finally looked up at her.

"It still is," she told him. "I'm, um… I'm going to get a cup of coffee. You want some?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks."

"Ok," Sara nodded and stood up. She took her mp3 player and gave Grissom one last look before quietly leaving his office.

He watched her leave. Grissom felt like a coward; a big, yellow coward. She was so beautiful and he was too frightened. When was that cowardliness going to come to a final end? Throwing his glasses on the desk, Grissom then leaned back in his chair and captured the beginning lines of his nose with his fingers as his eyes closed. He was really getting old….

* * *

"Have a moment to spare, Grissom?" Catherine walked into his office without waiting for an approval from her boss.

"Of course," he responded. "What's it about?"

"It's about your choice of partners lately, Gil…" she started as she slowly sat down on the chair in front of his desk.

"What about it?" he shrugged.

"Well… you've been working only with Sara for the past seven cases."

"That's not true. You, Warrick and Nick were included."

"Yeah, but only on one and you didn't work with us as much as you did with Sara." She sighed, looking at him with concern in her eyes. "People are starting to talk," she told him.

"Don't they always…" he couldn't care about hearing gossip again.

"It worries me frankly. As their supervisor, you should also be concerned."

"Why?"

"It's how you look."

"And how do I _look_?"

"Playing favoritism."

"She's a good CSI to work with, Catherine."

"So are we, but that doesn't seem to matter to you lately. What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Is that so… I'm not sure what your and Sara's current situation is, but it's not something to just be tossed aside. I mean, some here in the lab actually think that you two are sleeping together and that's why you keep working on cases together."

"Is that what they think?" Grissom smirked. "What poor judgment," he said.

"It wouldn't be long before that "poor judgment" reaches someone it's not supposed to reach."

"We happen to work well together," he gave an excuse.

Catherine was not convinced. "I'm not sure Cavallo will see that as something positive, Gil."

"It doesn't affect our investigations and the majority of the cases were solved. There really is no reason for him to suspect that anything is strange here."

"Oh, I think he might just do that."

"Nothing has changed in the way we conduct the investigations."

"Nothing? Look, I know you suck at these office politics." Receiving a look from Grissom, she continued. "I'm just being honest with you here. So – and this is only a suggestion as I know you won't listen otherwise – it might be better if you rethink this and get back to your old routine."

Grissom considered her reasons for a moment. He then sighed in defeat. She was probably right and he was too tired to argue. "Ok… you and I are working on the next case," he then said.

Catherine nodded without the disappearance of that concern from her eyes. "As I said I'm…"

"Just looking out for me. I know, Cath." He sighed again. But even her reasons did not appear sufficient to him.


	12. chapter 12

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.

* * *

"This is a surprise. Grissom on a different case?" Nick said.

"Why is that a surprise?"

"Only because you two had almost all the cases in the last five months."

Sara shook her head. "Let me guess… those rumors again?"

Nick shrugged. "They're like wildfire. They spread much faster than you can put them out."

"And you are helping in spreading it. Thanks, Nick. I thought you were my friend," she said jokingly.

"No, _not_ being your friend would be me not telling you anything about the rumors."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

"It should. I'm being honest."

"Gee, thanks. I just don't understand why they have to target Grissom and me. Don't they have anything better to do?" She said.

"I didn't start the rumors so, don't ask me."

She sighed. "What do we have?"

"A hit and run."

"Fun."

* * *

Grissom held the flower-shaped pendant delicately in his hands. The object was found with a murdered man in his apartment. Grissom's attention must've been focused on the gold object for what seemed like twenty minutes. He was originally supposed to examine it for any clues, prints… His appearance gave the impression intended, but his mind was absent. He couldn't concentrate well. It was her in his mind, not this piece of evidence.

"I know you tend to mediate over your microscope, but this is ludicrous," Catherine's voice finally snapped his attention away from the pendant.

"Sometimes, you might be surprised where the clues lay," he said and wished desperately that he was right. He did not feel comfortable discussing his original thoughts. Flipping the pendant, he found a strange green residue on it. Being only a speck, it hadn't been easy spotting it right away. Grissom felt relieved. His alibi checked out.

He smiled. "See?" he said and showed the pendant to Catherine.

"Hm. Yeah. What do you think that is?"

"I don't know, but it goes to show what patience can accomplish, doesn't it."

Catherine's stare was a cautious one. "Yes… it does," she replied and returned to her own part of the work.

* * *

"And here we are again," Sara mumbled, stopping in front of the red door.

"What are you doing here?" a familiar voice startled the brunette, causing her to quickly spin around.

"Oh, ah… the victim knew someone staying in this room… before they left. What… are you doing here?" She was as surprised as he.

"A suspect or victim had rented this room before… going missing."

"Cases that connect?"

Grissom smirked. "Since we're both here, that must be it." He opened the door. "Shall we?" He was just happy seeing her again.

"Ladies first?" So was she.

"Exactly."

Sara chuckled softly and entered the room.

Observing the room carefully, both CSIs took their time to gather whatever evidence they could find. "Another murder case connected to this Pink Stick motel. Talk about an unlucky piece of property."

"It wouldn't be the first one. A lot of motels… and hotels get unlucky with the scenes we find in there."

"You think luck might be on our side and we find another body here?"

"I don't believe in luck. But here's hoping for some good evidence," he said.

Both turned on their flashlights for a better scan of the room. They started with the ends of the room and slowly moved the light towards one another. When both beams met, the place was a familiar white mattress. "Another one," Sara said when she recognized the bed.

"Whatever brings in more guests." Grissom glanced over at Sara who did the same. A silent moment was shared.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Once the case is finished? Of course," Sara said and looked back at the bed.

" Because…"

"…It started with a room and a bed," Sara finished the sentence and chuckled.

Grissom's lip curled. Some thoughts were easier to read than others.

"Call me weird but, it feels strange working on this case…" Sara said after some time.

He looked at her. He knew what she meant. They got used to working together more often than usual. Now, it felt odd when he was required to do otherwise. "Same here," he said and hid his gaze from Sara just in time.

"Why did you pick me seven cases in a row to work with you?" she asked whilst moving her flashlight.

"Um, 'cause you're good at what you do."

"Is that the only reason?"

The pause gave him an unnecessary appearance of a man who held back more than he told. "Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Sara did not respond immediately. She did not believe him. "I heard a new rumor," she said instead.

"And I have to hear it too?"

Sara shrugged. "It's not required."

"In the words of Marie Curie: _Be less curious about people and more curious about ideas_."

Sara smirked. "Yeah, tell _them_ that. But small minds do discuss other people."

"Yes, they do… sadly." He sighed.

"That experiment of yours with the cuffs must've made a huge fire for them to talk about."

"Why do you listen to what they say, anyway?"

"I don't. It just unwillingly gets in my head when a colleague happens to mention it to me."

"Ah." Grissom shook his head. He was in the same position. "The less you pay attention to them, the less they bother you."

"Who says they're bothering me?"

Giving her a look, Grissom continued. "Of course… what was I thinking? You just use them to have a laugh, like me, right?"

Sara nodded.

"Then why am I not seeing you laughing?"

"I did… the first time I heard it, I did."

"Did you…"

"Yes," she responded calmly.

"Ok…" He wasn't quite sure but he thought that she hadn't found the rumors as amusing as originally thought.

"You don't seem very convincing."

"I'm not really in the laughing mood at the moment."

"Why's that?"

Sara leaned her head forward, uncomfortable by his questions. "Because… I can't find anything to _get me_ laughing?"

"Alright. They're not getting to you, are they?"

"No, no, they're not. Would be ridiculous if they did."

"Would be preposterous."

"Same meaning. But their choice of a "couple" is… beyond even that."

"They'll switch to someone else next week."

"This has been going on for about a year now… it's sure taking them a long time to find new victims."

Grissom contemplated for a moment. "Well… I have a suggestion. It might not shut them up, but… it could maybe help us."

"I'm listening."

"Remember that restaurant we went to last week?"

"Aha."

"What do you think of going back there?" Seeing that Sara was preparing to say something, Grissom quickly continued, not giving her a chance to say anything before him. "After work. After the cases."

Sara's stare was a long one. What a way to invite a girl to dinner. "Why?"

"They have good food."

"Ah, and I thought it was 'cause of something else," she smirked and shook her head.

"It might be."

"What's the catch?"

"Um, is there supposed to be one?"

Sara crossed her arms. She wasn't convinced.

"There's no catch! Honestly."

She waited to give further thought. "After work?"

"After work."

"No spying eyes?"

"None."

"Um… ok. But you owe me."

Grissom smiled with satisfaction and picked up his brush. "And sometime in the future," he hinted to the bed.

"To clear our heads?"

"Yes."

"Sweet."

"Want some coffee afterwards?" He offered.

"Sure." She accepted. They had to start with something.

He wasn't so afraid after all.

**THE END **

Note: Thanks to everyone that reviewed! I'm pleased to see that you enjoyed the story. See you soon with another one.


	13. Epilogue

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'CSI'. They're not my property.

* * *

Sara sat in her chair, quietly drinking her coffee. Another case was finished, and now she was savoring some of that free time that followed – no matter how short. She glanced at her watch. There was still time. 

"Hey, Sara." With a cup in his hand, Nick smiled at his colleague when he entered the break room.

"Hey, Nick," Sara replied and then took another sip. She saw him take a chair opposite hers with a small paper bag in his other hand. "Enjoy," she said after he pulled out his sandwich.

"Thanks," he said and then took a bite. She smiled at him, and put her coffee cup down. "Oh, thanks for recommending that restaurant, by the way," Nick told her whilst chewing his food. "Megan loved it."

She chuckled. "Glad to hear that, Nick. So, you guys still seeing each other?"

"Yup." He finally swallowed the piece of food. "Wish I had some of your time off right about now."

Sara shrugged. "Bummer," she replied and showed that wide smile of hers.

Nick stopped and looked at her funny. "You seem to be in a good mood today," he said casually.

"Oh…" She paused. "It's probably the weather."

"Reminds me of a song from Garbage," Nick said about this. It had been raining heavily outside, and it was rather depressing.

"Only happy when it rains?"

"That's the one."

Sara shook her head and glanced at her watch. "Guess it works differently for different people."

Nick took a sip from his coffee and then asked, "Got plans for today?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," she replied. The way she would sometimes stretch her words along with her soft voice made it really appealing – like now.

"Like what?"

Sara stood up. It was time to go. "A date in a motel room."

"Oh." This caught him off guard as he never imagined Sara to be the type. "Naughty," he teased her nevertheless.

She was tempted to roll her eyes but gave a laugh instead. "See you, Nick," Sara said before quietly leaving the room.

"Have…fun," he managed to speak out before she disappeared from his view.

* * *

"Thank you." Grissom smiled as he took the key. He walked outside, pulled his collar up and hurried towards his room. It was raining cats and dogs this morning; a very unpleasant day, but not something that really bothered him. A small smile peaked through his beard when he saw her standing in front of the door with two cups of hot coffee. "You're early," he said. 

"Ah, well… traffic didn't turn out as bad as I feared," she replied, and gave him that wonderful smile of hers he loved to see.

He nodded to the side and then unlocked the door to room 8. "After you," he offered.

"Thank you," she accepted and went inside.

The room looked plain with a double bed, a green chair next to it, and one small nightstand. But it was one not picked by accident. The Magic Fingers next to the bed gave the reason for this choice. Sara stopped to have a good look at the room. "Not the kind I imagined but…"

"It was the only one I managed to find that was available for today. I think I started earning a certain reputation after what I went through to finally find one."

Sara chuckled. "I can picture it."

"Do they know?" he asked as he closed the door.

"Um, Nick's face was worth a look after I gave a mention of our…plans. But no one knows about the mystery man involved," she teased.

Grissom smirked and took the cups before putting them down on the nightstand. Both took off their jackets and then placed them on the chair as the only appropriate place for them. The room itself wasn't of high class…but then, that shouldn't have really been a surprise.

Sara went to use the bathroom because after all the previous cups she had finished before coming here, her bladder demanded it. Grissom, in the meantime, examined the bed with the orange sheets to see if it was good enough – and clean – to be used. His response after the inspection had been in a form of a tame smile. It would do.

He heard the toilet flush and then saw her emerge from the bathroom. That dark brown color of her pants and blouse didn't show much of her figure after Grissom pulled down the curtains.

Both sat down on the bed where Grissom took the cups, and handed one to Sara. They drank a bit and discussed the results of the last cockroach race where Speedy – a Grissom favorite – had taken second place. The cups were returned to the nightstand before both lay down on the bed. Grissom put the coin in. The vibrations began as both closed their eyes.

"Mm… this one is much nicer than the last one," Sara said quietly, referring to their previous experience in the Pink Stick motel room.

"I have to agree," Grissom replied.

Dinner would wait for now.

Note: Special thanks to **Cybrokat**. :)


End file.
